


Make My Bed (and lay in it)

by hiimtr_ash



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Blood, F/M, Victorian, Violence, ben is kinda an asshole at first, he deserves death, hux is literally the worst, imagine a perfect 1880s victorian manor and you've got it, it's not a slowburn but it's gonna take a hot minute, rey kicks ass though, rey needs a hug tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2019-11-04 04:04:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiimtr_ash/pseuds/hiimtr_ash
Summary: Rey, a working class girl with no family, has just found a new job at Solo Manor. As a scullery maid, her job is less than desirable, but it's enough for her. Everything is going just about as expected, until Rey meets Ben Solo, the head of the manor and the master of the house. His cold demeanor and short temper stun her, and for some reason she finds herself fixating on him. Not to mention, he seems like he might be engaging in some.. suspicious activity. Can Rey manage to navigate a new job, a new home, and a new master, who seems like more and more of an enigma each day? Only time will tell.





	1. Dirty Looks (and dirty dishes)

**Author's Note:**

> Before we dive in, I want to start by thanking Julia (@velarisrey) for planting this idea in my head to begin with. I never would've thought about this without you, and I hope you love it.

“Welcome to Solo Manor, Miss-”

The old woman’s voice trailed off in a questioning tone as she raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rey, who was currently shaking in her (poorly constructed) boots. She had never been so nervous about starting a new job. It was a big step for her to leave her last job, and while she was excited for new opportunities, she was also mildly terrified. 

“Rey. I’m Rey.” 

She extended her hand out towards the woman, offering a tense smile. The woman cleared her throat and pursed her lips, ignoring her outstretched arm. 

“Rey what? What’s your surname?”

Rey tensed and looked away, fixing her eyes on the floor. This part always stung.

“I don’t have one, ma’am. Just Rey.”

The woman scoffed and sighed, exasperated, before mumbling something under her breath and grabbing a stack of linens and handing them to her. 

“Right then,” her voice was hard and flat. “You will address me as Ms. Phasma, I’m the head maid and second in command here, thought the head butler may tell you otherwise. These are fresh linens for your quarters, you’ll find your uniform there. Rose here will show you there.”

Phasma gestured to a smiling young girl who grabbed her arm gently and led her away, waiting until they were a safe distance from Phasma to speak. 

“Phasma is quite a bit…” Rey’s voice trailed off, searching for the right word. That is, a word that wouldn’t seem too offensive. 

“A ridiculous old woman? I agree.” Rose laughed quietly. “Try not to take what she says too seriously, her words tend to bite a little.”

Rey chuckled softly and tried to relax. Rose seemed nice, even if Phasma was a bit rough around the edges. She supposed things might not be so bad here, if she could get past that. The corridor Rose led her down was narrow and dark, and much less glamorous than she’d imagined - though she wasn’t sure why she expected much, signing on as nothing more than a scullery maid. After a few twists and turns she was sure she wouldn't remember, they reached the end of a hall. Rose stopped at the very last door, cracking it open. 

“Well, here it is! This is where you’ll be staying. Your uniform is on the bed; change straight away and head to the scullery straight away for training.” Rose smiled gently, gesturing toward the open door. 

“Thank you,” Rey smiled in return and stepped in. “Will I be training with you?” Rey turned to hear Rose’s response, only to notice she was already gone. 

She supposed she’d just have to find out when she got there. 

She closed the door behind her and sighed, taking a good look around. The room was small, to say the least. The bed in the corner took up most of the space, along with the dresser directly across from it. From the door to the bed was barely three paces, and Rey surmised that there was barely room to lay stretched out on the floor if she wanted to. 

Still, she smiled to herself. She’d certainly had worse. 

She changed into her uniform, a standard black dress with a white apron, and left the linens on the bed. She’d make it later, she supposed. 

She made her way to the scullery and dusted off her apron, clasping her hands gently in front of her. She wasn’t exactly sure who she was supposed to be reporting to, and none of the other maids paid her much mind. She tapped one girl on the shoulder, who promptly put her sud covered hand on her hip. 

“What do you want?” Her tone was bitter, and Rey hoped it was just a hard days’ work that had hardened her and not something about her own demeanor. 

“Sorry to bother you, I’m new and I was wondering who I’m supposed to report t-”

“Maz. Over there.” The girl gestured to a short older woman in the corner before ignoring her and turning right back to her work. 

“Right, then,” Rey whispered to herself and made her way over to Maz, who seemed to already know who she was. 

“Rey, welcome,” She smiled at her through her thick round glasses, pushing them up her nose. “I’m Maz, but you know that already, I’m sure. Now I expect you already know how to perform as a scullery maid, but since it’s only your first day I’ll pair you with Martha over there. Consider yourself under her instruction for today.”

Rey followed Maz’s gaze to Martha, putting a name to the face she’d encountered just moments ago. 

“Thank you,” Rey plastered on an apprehensive smille - it was the best she could manage - and headed over to Martha, her hands balled into fists at her sides. 

“I believe I should properly introduce myself; I’m Rey,”   
She tightened her smile and extended a hand to her, not sure why she expected a handshake from someone like this for a second time that day. 

And of course, just like with Phasma, her handshake was completely ignored. Not even looking at her, Martha began to rattle off instructions. 

“Right, then. I don’t need to know your name, I don’t need to know anything about you. You won’t last. Why don’t you just take these pans and scrub them for me while I go gather more dishes from the carts.”

Rey couldn’t say she was surprised, and she was determined to please her superiors, so she kept her mouth shut and did as she was told. 

Her day of training consisted of just that, actually. Martha would list out orders and Rey would complete them. Scrub the skillets, scrub the plates, fetch more soap from the storeroom, be careful with the master’s china, he likes it spotless - and on, and on, and on. 

As she mindlessly completed the tasks Martha set before her, she couldn't help but wonder about the previously mentioned master of the house. She hadn’t even so much as seen him, though she supposed he probably had better things to do than greet scullery maids on their first day.

After about 9 hours of scrubbing various dishes and cleaning the scullery from top to bottom, Maz said they were dismissed for the night. Rey was exhausted, and sauntered back to her room with heavy steps. 

On her way, she heard hushed voices in the hall, sounding like they were in a sort of argument. She stopped in her tracks, realizing by the sound of it that they were right around the corner. The first voice she recognized as Phasma, but the second voice was a mystery to her - and it was a man. 

“I don’t suppose you have any idea what you’re really getting yourself into master, the implications of an action such as this -”

“Did I ask your opinion? You have your orders. You will do as you’re asked. That is all I require of you.” 

The last echoing words of the man deflated into silence, and for a moment all was still - but only for a moment. A second later a door was slamming shut, and then there was the sharp sound of heavy footsteps. Before Rey had the sense to move, or hide, or do anything but stand there, the man turned the corner, coming face to face with her. He stopped dead in his tracks and took a step back, his dark eyes grazing over her, almost analyzing her. 

His hair was jet black, cascading down to his shoulders in loose waves, and his fingers were clenched into tight fists at his sides. She knew just looking at him that this had to be the infamous master of the house. He was dressed like a man of status, with a well fitted coat and vest underneath, all in a sleek black and white palette. His lips tensed for a moment, pulling into a thin line, before he broke the silence and spoke to her. 

“You’re new.”

His voice was deep, and despite the coldness to it, it melted over her like honey. She became stuck in it, intrigued by the curious way he looked at her. For a moment, she almost forgot to speak. 

“Yes, just started today sir, my name is-” 

Raising a hand, he interjected, cutting her off. 

“I don’t need to know your name. I don’t concern myself with every scullery maid that drifts in and out of my kitchen. I expect that you’ll be on your way now, and that you forget anything you might have heard just now between me and your superior.”

He straightened his tie and stepped around her, continuing down the narrow hall.

“Right, then…” 

Rey muttered to herself as she made her way back to her room, trying to make sense of the strange encounter. That was the second time today someone had told her to keep her name to herself. She hadn’t expected her first meeting with Ben Solo, the mysterious head of Solo Manor, to be so… bitter, so cold. She didn’t think he’d be so rude, though she wasn’t sure why. 

She dressed for bed and let down her hair, brushing it gently as she mulled over her day. Between Phasma (who seemed to hate everyone, including her), Maz (who was eccentric to say the least), and Ben Solo himself, it seemed like she had her work cut out for her here. 

Rude as he was, though, she couldn’t quite seem to stop thinking about Ben Solo, with his searing chocolate eyes. As she settled into bed, she attempted to shake away the questions that filled her head. 

He didn’t need to favor her, or even like her. She was just a scullery maid, after all. 

Besides, it’s not like she would see him often, or anytime again soon. 

Or would she?


	2. An Interesting Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey meets someone new, who doesn't seem to like her very much. Ben Solo becomes intrigued.

After a few day’s work in Solo Manor, it was clear to Rey that this wasn’t going to be the easiest job in the world. Luckily, she was no longer under the direct supervision of Martha, who appeared to hate her for no reason (or maybe she just hated everyone), but the job as a whole still wasn’t the easiest of the lot she’d had. 

Everything had to be meticulously done, each dish scrubbed spotless and dried perfectly (because of course water spots were unacceptable), and everything stored in the proper place in the proper manner. And at the end of the day, when Phasma looked over everything, she was bound to find at least a million things they needed to correct before they could end their shifts. 

She made her way to the scullery, prepared for yet another day of hard work that would leave her hands raw and calloused. When she arrived, she was surprised to see that her usual spot on the line was filled. She turned to go find Maz, only to discover she was right behind her. 

“Rey, dear,” Maz smiled through her thick rimmed glasses. “We’ve had one of the linen maids fall ill, and need someone to go see to it that the beds, especially the master’s bed, is properly made. Would you be so kind as to fill in for today?”

Ignoring Martha’s sudden glare, who was apparently eavesdropping, Rey smiled and nodded. 

“Of course, miss, I’d be happy to. I don’t quite know my way around the rest of the manor, however -”

“No worries,” Maz waved a hand dismissively. “You shan't have any trouble, it’s simple. Just head up the main stairs, and tidy all the bedrooms on the second floor. No tricky business.” Maz winked and patted her on the back, walking away with her unique saunter. 

“Just up the main stairs, sure.” 

Rey sighed, walking away from Martha’s daunting gaze (though she could still feel it at her back) and headed for the door that led out of the scullery. She’d had a short tour around the manor before she was hired, so she knew a little of where she was going at least. 

Making her way to the foyer, she turned to head up the main staircase, placing her right hand delicately on the railing. It was plated in gold and cold to the touch, and she immediately felt as if she wasn’t good enough to touch it. She recoiled her hand and began to ascend the stairs, hesitant and cautious. 

As she reached the top of the stairs, she turned and headed down the first corridor she saw. She was sure that whatever way she went, she would find the bedrooms eventually. After all, there was a large amount of high end staff that lived up here, as well as the master and his family, she presumed.  
As she headed down the hall, she turned a corner and stumbled upon two men whispering tensely, both wearing butler’s uniforms (though one, who had red tinged hair, seemed to be a superior).

“And remember, master Solo mustn’t know. This is in my hands, and mine only.”

“Yes, sir, of course.”

What was it with her and happening upon clandestine conversations?

“Oh, terribly sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Rey smiled awkwardly and curtsied, hoping they would ignore her and let her on her way. 

The red haired man frowned bitterly and and stalked over to her, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. 

“And who might you be?” 

His voice was sharp and bitter, and she found it interesting that unlike most people here, he seemed to care who she was. 

“I’m callled Rey, sir. And you are?”

He scoffed, shaking his head in disapproval. 

“You’ve simply got to be new here if you’ve no idea who I am. I am Armitage Hux, head butler and second in command to master Solo.”

Rey’s eyes widened in realization, and she remembered Phasma briefly mentioning a head butler who called himself second in command, just as she did. She curtsied again, lower this time, dipping her head. 

“I do apologize for not knowing your face, sir. I did just arrive in the scullery a few days ago.”

“Hmmph,” Hux pursed his lips and squinted down at her, looking her over, almost as if he was trying to discern whether or not she was a threat. His eyes scanned (to Rey’s discomfort) every inch of her body, before flickering back to her eyes, his dark gaze intense. 

“A scullery maid,” He drawled and leaned towards her, in an almost threatening manner, “...why then, are you in this part of the manor? Have you no sense of boundaries and discretion?” He leaned away again and turned to the butler he was talking to before. “The sheer incompetence of these rats Phasma hires astounds me. Perhaps they’d keep staff longer if they had higher standards, instead of just scooping ditsy girls out of gutters and poorhouses.”  
The butler chuckled, and Rey could tell by the odd smirk on Hux’s face that he would laugh too, if he were capable of showing such emotion so outwardly.

When Hux turned back around, his eyebrows raised in amusement. 

“You’re still here? Goodness, you haven’t got a clue have you? Scurry along, little rat. Spread your filth elsewhere.”

Shocked and insulted beyond belief, Rey managed one final curtsey before she turned and headed down a different hall, figuring she better start far off from where Hux was. Heading into a random bedroom, she shut the door behind her and sat on the unmade bed, looking down at her shaking hands as she tried to breathe. 

She was so upset she didn’t even notice the grandeur of the room - the gilded decorations, the accents of gold, the oversized bed and it’s expensive black linens, the connected bathroom with a tub the size of her servant’s quarters - it all eluded her. 

The way Hux had spoken to her was hardly unfamiliar, yet it stung just as much as it had the first time someone had insulted her that way. She had hoped this job would be different. Maybe she was wrong. 

Looking around the room to make sure she was alone, she raised her hands to her face and began to sob softly into them, her body shaking. She had wanted this place to be a fresh start for her, a place where she could earn respect and show that she deserved it through hard work. 

But maybe she would never find a job that treated her the way she wanted to be treated. Maybe every job would be the same; she would do her best, and it wouldn’t be enough. She would put her heart into it, smile even when she felt like breaking, and get paid dirt in return. 

She hadn’t cried in a long time, and the release she felt as the tears leaked through the gaps in her hands was indescribable. In this moment, she was nobody’s maid, nobody’s employee, nobody’s pawn. She was just Rey. It felt so good to admit defeat, to retreat into herself, if only for a few moments. 

That was, until she heard the door opening. 

Rey whipped her head in direction of the door, tears still cascading down her cheeks, lips parting slightly in a mixture of fear and surprise. 

Ben Solo shut the door behind him and cleared his throat awkwardly, hands clasped tightly in front of him. 

“Would you like to explain,” he spoke softly but with authority, “why you, a scullery maid, is sitting on my bed in my quarters, weeping?”

Rey wiped at her tears furiously, trying to compose herself as quickly as possible. Her eyes darted briefly across the room, just now taking in the details she had failed to perceive in her initial distress. 

It was then that the realization dawned on her that she could be in quite a bit of trouble here, and with a sudden urgency she leaped up from Ben Solo’s bed. 

“Sir, I do apologize.” She stammered nervously, shaking hands smoothing out her rumpled skirt. “I have no excuse for behaving in such an unprofessional manner, it will never happen again, I assure you, I-”

He waved his hand in dismissal and took a step closer, his dark eyes fixed on her. They were dark, cold, and nearly unreadable. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Rey’s lip quivered, and she clasped her hands in front of her tightly, eyes fixed on the floor. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. 

“Well miss Maz, you see, she said that they were short a linen maid today, and she came to me with hopes I might fill in, so here I am.” 

Rey inwardly groaned at how weak her voice sounded, how frail and anxious. The last thing she needed was for her admittedly stone faced boss to start seeing her as a liability. 

Something changed, though, something in his eyes. They… deepened, almost. He took another step, so that there was barely any space between them, his figure looming over her. 

Ben would never admit it, but looking down at the girl with her tear stained cheeks, he almost felt… was it sympathy? Pity? He wasn’t sure. He tried to push the feeling from his mind and pushed his lips into a thin line.

“No. Why were you in here, weeping, instead of doing your duties?”

Rey fell silent, recalling her encounter with Hux in the hall. It seemed she had two choices; invent a lie, or tell the truth. Either could harm her in some way, she was sure. But Ben Solo was staring at her, with those dark, oddly alluring yet terrifying eyes, and she had to make a decision.

Her voice low, yet surprisingly steady, she answered him. 

“Mr. Hux, sir.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, his attention caught. Him and Hux had their differences, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d been up to something as of late. He raised his hand to her jaw, and tilted her head, forcing her eyes to meet his. 

To her own surprise, and a little bit of shame, Rey was disappointed to see that the strange glimmer in his eyes was gone. 

“Tell me, girl, what was Armitage up to?”

Rey swallowed, baffled at the presence of a lump in her throat as she locked eyes with the (no longer elusive) master of the house. 

And for some reason, she had a moment of boldness. 

“Rey. My name is Rey, sir.” 

He said nothing, and she assumed he was waiting for a surname of some kind, so she figured she might as well get that awkward bit of conversation out of the way. After all, she was already making decisions that could very well get her fired. 

“Rey of nothing, of nowhere.”

She cleared her throat and stared into his eyes, searching for a reaction. 

Ben’s hand dropped from her face, and she watched his jaw clench slightly. His voice was dangerously level as he spoke. 

“Well then, Rey of Nowhere, I suggest you tell me the details of your little encounter with the head butler before I make a decision we would both regret.”

Rey felt the quiver in her lip return, and she suddenly knew she had no choice but to tell him everything she’d heard. 

When she was finished speaking, he watched her in silence for a few moments. So, it was as he suspected. He couldn’t prove it, but it seemed like Hux might be up to something, otherwise he wouldn’t have been caught so off guard by an unfamiliar face. 

He took a step back, taking a deep breath and reaching a hand up to straighten his tie.

“I do apologize for my butler’s actions. He can be... quite cruel.”

Rey released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, held in place by the tension his close proximity seemed to create.

“Well sir I-”

He raised his hand again and turned to leave. He’d gotten all he needed from her, and that moment of weakness he’d felt, that moment of sympathy - he was convinced not to let it distract him. 

He opened the door and pausing, turning back for a moment. 

“Say no more, please. And don’t forget to make the bed, dear.”

Before she could speak, he was gone, and the door had shut softly behind him. 

Rey stood there in silence, contemplating everything that had just happened. She was no longer upset about anything Hux had said; It was the furthest from her mind. But what she couldn’t stop thinking about was that strange glimmer she had seen in Ben Solo’s eyes, if only for a moment. 

Was it possible that there was more to him than an emotionless, statuesque head of household?

For some reason, she was determined to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for reading! please let me know what you think. love always xx


	3. Bloody Exciting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Martha have an altercation. Rey and Rose share a tender moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience, it's been a rough week for me. I'm so happy to finally get this chapter up!
> 
> Just a warning, there is some blood and violence in this chapter, so be cautious if those things are triggering for you. 
> 
> Also, there's some 1800s victorian era phrases I used that you won't likely be familiar with, so I've bolded them in the text and provided definitions of them in the end notes. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The next morning when Rey awoke, she opened her eyes with a start. While she would never admit it to any living soul, she’d been dreaming of Ben Solo. She wasn’t sure why, but something about him just… _interested_ her. Never before had she had a master so terrifying and stone cold who still managed to capture her attention in a way she couldn’t explain. 

She shook the residual sleepiness from her head and stood, getting dressed and heading down to the scullery. She took her usual place, slipping in next to Rose. 

“Good morning, Rey! How’d you sleep? Well, I hope.”

She asked her this every morning. Rose’s genuine smile made Rey smile in return, always glad to speak to someone whose kindness was so authentic. Other than idle chit chat, however, her and Rose had barely spoken much. 

“I did sleep… well.” An image of Ben Solo crossed her mind, but she swatted it away. Rey reached down into the sink and grabbed a cast iron skillet, beginning to scrub it. “And you? Are you rested?”

Rose cocked an eyebrow, dropping her own pan back into the sink and putting a hand on her hip, covered up to her elbow in suds. 

“Never mind me. What’s changed?”

Rey suppressed her urge to panic, not sure why that question made her so anxious. 

“What do you mean?” Rey scrubbed her skillet harder, refusing to make eye contact with Rose. 

Rose shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. 

“Every day I ask you how you’ve slept. And _every day_ you say the same thing. ‘Great! And you?’. You’re gone from the line for one day, filling in for a linen maid, and now suddenly something is different. Why?” 

Rey scrubbed the skillet even harder, her arm beginning to ache. Nothing had changed. She was the same as she was yesterday, with the same ideas, same behaviors, same thoughts… wasn’t she? Her mind was telling her one thing, but her intuition was telling her another. 

“I don’t know what you’re speaking of, you’ve simply got to be confused.” Rey bit her lip and kept her gaze focused steadily on the sink. 

Rose clicked her tongue again, turning back to her dishes.

“I’ll get it out of you, Rey. Whether you want me to or not.”

Her voice was playful, but determined, and Rey found herself surprised at how curious and probing Rose was. Suddenly, she was very glad that they had a great deal of work to do, if it meant that it kept Rose from asking her more questions. 

****  
  
  


Later that day, they were released for their lunch, which usually consisted of leftovers, scraps, or something crudely slapped together in the kitchen. 

Making her way to the main kitchen, Rey grabbed a parcel of food and made her way out to the outer courtyard, where she liked eating lunch most days. It was, of course, separate from the main courtyard, where staff such as her was not permitted to go. Still, it was lovely.

The walls, which were constructed in circle upon circle, were covered in masses of roses and peonies. The center of the garden was flooded with parallel flower beds of violet and lavender, and scattered throughout were trellises bearing honeysuckle. The smell of flowers was overpowering to some, but Rey loved it; she had always loved gardens.

She navigated through a few twists and turns of the garden, settling on a stone bench in a secluded corner near an overgrown trellis. Unfolding the parcel, she looked down at her “lunch”. In typical fashion, it consisted of what was a disappointingly small portion of cheese and a rough, dark bread. Neither tasted particularly good, but at least the bread was filling. 

Tearing off a piece of the bread and shoving it into her mouth, Rey stared into the bud of a peony and drifted away with her thoughts. 

Why did she feel so strange? Why did Ben Solo make her feel so afraid, yet so… curious? And why, God, why, was she so noticeably distracted that people (well, Rose) have started asking questions?

Rey was so lost in thought that she didn’t even hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and the soft rustling of foliage. 

“Oi, look what we’ve got here, a little pest has invaded the garden.”

Was someone talking to her? Rey’s gaze lifted only to be met with Martha’s, whose lips were pulled into a sinister smirk. 

“Excuse me?”

Martha glared, taking a few steps closer, towering over Rey.

“This is my spot, **hedge-creeper**.” Martha smiled bitterly. 

Now usually, Rey quietly held her own. Avoided conflict. Stayed away from drama. But for some reason, this time was different. She didn’t feel like taking shit from anyone else in that manor; she was sick of being stepped on. In that moment, something inside Rey snapped. 

She stood up, forcing Martha to take a step back, and curled her hands into tight fists.    
When she spoke, her voice was low and intense.

“What issue do you take with me? Why do you taunt me this way?”

Martha huffed and cocked her head, looking Rey up and down. 

“Awh, how adorable, a **meater** like you trying to stand up for herself.”

Martha looked down at Rey, eyes light and taunting. Rey met her gaze, unflinching. 

“You’ve done nothing but treat me horribly since I arrived here, and for no cause. I refuse to put up with this any longer.”

For a moment, Martha said nothing, staring at Rey with parted lips. Then, she burst out laughing. Loud, wheezing laughter. And Rey couldn’t take it anymore. 

With a swift motion, she lifted her arm and threw a right hook, hitting Martha square in the nose and knocking her to the ground.  A slow trickle of blood formed under her nose, and her mouth hung open in shock, a hand defensively raised to her face. 

Rey’s adrenaline rushed, her heart beating furiously. She had probably just made a huge mistake, but right now she didn’t care. 

“You’re quite **vazey** , aren’t you?” Martha spat through barred teeth, wiping at the blood on her face and leaping to her feet.

Rey’s fist ached, but she kept it clenched anyways. 

“I suggest you _leave_.” 

“I don’t take suggestions.” Martha chuckled, cracking her knuckles. “I take orders.”

Rey paused, her lips parting in confusion. 

“Wait, orders? What do you me-”

Before she could finish speaking, Martha grabbed her by her hair, destroying the tight buns on her head, and threw her aside. Rey stumbled and fell, hitting her head on the stone bench she had been sitting on just moments earlier. 

Dazed, Rey stood slowly and spun around, preparing to lunge at her, only to be met with a swift fist to her left eye. 

Staggering backwards, Rey felt another rush of adrenaline, her body filling with fire. She let out a growl and lunged at her, tackling her to the ground. Grabbing her hands and pinning them above her head with one arm, she used the other to land a blow directly to her jaw. 

Then another.

Then another.

The world around her disappeared. All she wanted in this moment was to be on top. To be the winner. To be the strongest. 

Then, out of the bubble that had formed around her, she heard someone calling her name. Before she knew it, she was being pulled off of Martha, and strong arms gripped her, holding her back. 

“Rey! Rey, what in God’s name are you doing?”

It was Rose.

“I…” Rey was breathing slowed, the adrenaline leaving her system, and she realized what she had done. “I...I lost control.”

Martha stood, her jaw heavily bruised, and wiped at her nose again, which was still bleeding. Despite the situation, she seemed relatively unfazed. 

“Who knew, the **ratbag** can fight.” Martha huffed. “I’ll have to remember that the next go. See you ‘round.” She snickered and made her way out of the courtyard, leaving Rey dumbfounded. 

“The next go? What’s going on here? I don’t understand, I-”

“Rey,” Rose released her from her grip, taking her gently by the arm and leading her to the bench, where she sat next to her. “What happened?”

Rey raised a hand to her forehead, where a small trickle of blood had formed from the blow to the bench moments ago. 

“She...was taunting me. Harassing me. Again. She’s been doing it since I arrived, Rose, everyone has, and I couldn’t stand it, I just couldn’t take anymore, I-” Rey dropped her head into her hands and moaned. 

“So you...fought her?” Rose sighed and laid a hand on her back gently. 

“She started it…”Rey muttered bitterly through her fingers. “And besides, she got a few good hits in on me too.”

Rose reached over and gently peeled Rey’s hands back from her face, leaning over to get a good look at her injuries. Her left eye was swollen and bruising, and there was a gash on her forehead from which a bit of blood was trickling. 

“You look a mess. Come, let’s go get you cleaned up, eh?” 

Rose took her by the hand and led her out of the courtyard and back inside, gathering a bucket of water and some clean towels. She then led her back to her quarters, figuring they could use a bit of privacy. 

“Sit down on the bed.” Rose gestured to the cot and set the bucket of water down, submerging one of the rags in it. 

“Shouldn’t we be getting back to work? Won’t Maz or Phasma chastise us if we-”

Rose waved her hand dismissively. 

“Don’t worry about that. Maz likes me, and she owes me a favor anyways.”

Rey raised an eyebrow out of curiosity, but Rose was silent, and she decided not to pry. 

Rose squeezed out the washcloth and raised it to Rey’s forehead, gently dabbing at the wound with a level of care that surprised Rey for how unaquainted they were. 

“You musn’t get into a predicament like this again,” Rose spoke quietly, with a tone that spoke for itself. “Phasma is swift and cruel with her judgements, and if this were to have happened with someone unlike Martha, someone likely to report it…” Rose sighed, dropping the washcloth back into the bucket. “Well, lets just say that things wouldn’t bode well for you.” 

Rey nodded slowly, trying to decipher exactly what that meant, but too unsure and afraid to ask. 

“I thought… I thought that Martha just had a dislike for me. I’m sure she does. But after what’s happened today, I’ve come to believe there’s more to it.”

Rose wrung out the washcloth again and went in for another round of gentle dabbing, followed by a curious hum. 

“Oh? In what way?”

Rey bit her lip, the cut on her head stinging as Rose dabbed at it a little harder. 

“When I suggested that she let me alone, she replied that she didn’t take suggestions, she took _orders_. Something about that just sounded… odd to me. And when she left, she said she’d see me the next time around. I don’t know exactly what’s happening here but… there’s more to it than a simple fight.”

Rose paused, pulling the rag away from Rey’s face. 

“Are you saying,” Rose’s eyes seemed to light up as she spoke,“that you think there may be some kind of… plot against you? As in some sort of... _conspiracy_?”

Rey chuckled dryly, confused at her obvious excitement.

“I...perhaps, yes, but…”

Rose squealed, tossing the rag in the bucket and jumping excitedly. 

“Finally something bloody interesting is happening here! This is even more exciting than this mystery man you’ve been fixated on.”

At the mention of a man, Rey tensed and clasped her hands tightly in front of her.

“I never said anything about a man, nor a mystery, therefore I haven’t the slightest idea where you’d come up with an idea like that, and frankly won’t entertain any delusions of…”

“Oh, _please_!” Rose giggled softly. “I could see it in your eyes. It’s obvious. I won’t ask who he is, not yet. I can tell you’re confused as it is, I wouldn’t want to make it worse.”

Rose seemed to calm down a little now, moving to sit beside Rey on her bed. 

“But…” She murmured, “when you are ready to talk about him, you know where to find me.” She smiled softly, placing her hand on Rey’s shoulder gently. 

Rey couldn’t help but smile, warmth flooding through her at the simple touch. Affection of any kind was foreign to her, and she welcomed it with open arms. 

“Thank you, Rose. You’ve been good to me today, I won’t forget it.” She smiled and placed her hand over Rose’s, heart swelling with gratitude. 

“I haven’t been good to you, Rey.” Rose spoke gently, with a wide smile on her face. “I’ve been a _friend_.” 

Rey could feel herself beaming as Rose stood and made her way to the door, before turning back one last time. 

“Oh, and we’ll get to the bottom of this mess with Martha. You’ve got yourself a partner in crime, love.”

Rose flashed another brilliant smile and then left, the door shutting softly behind her. 

Rey laid down on her bed, smiling in spite of the headache she started to feel coming on (due to the bash to the head, undoubtedly). Sure, it seemed like someone had a plot against her, her job was incredibly difficult, and she had strange and confusing feelings about the man who was technically her highest superior here. 

But none of that mattered to Rey right now, not in light of what had just happened. Because for the first time in her life, Rey had a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading loves, I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> -Vocabulary-  
> Hedge Creeper: a prostitute, usually one who roams the countryside.   
> Meater: a coward.  
> Vazey: stupid.   
> Ratbag: a general insult; a rouge or eccentric. 
> 
> Also, fun fact! Rey's lunch is very typical of a poor man's lunch in the victorian era, which usually consisted of a rough dark bread, and sometimes a fat such as cheese or milk. Rarely did people of Rey's status have food such as fresh fruits, vegetables, or meat.


	4. Wildfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey is called to her master's chamber and presented with an interesting order. Rose is hiding something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! it's been a while! i'm excited to be back in the swing of things again. enjoy :)
> 
>  
> 
> p.s. hi grace i love you

As she awoke for work the next morning, Rey groaned. Her head was pounding, sending tendrils of heat through her scalp. Standing to get dressed, she glanced in the mirror to see her eye surrounded by a dark ring of bruising. There was no way she could hide it even if she tried.

Great. 

She made her way to work, dreading the reaction from not only her coworkers, but also Maz and Phasma. She kept her head down as to draw less attention, and made her way to her station, grabbing the nearest dish and beginning to scrub thoroughly.

“How’re you feeling?” Rose spoke in a low voice as she slipped in beside her, picking up her own dish to scrub at. 

Rey glanced over at her, making quick eye contact before ducking her head back down. The less people staring at her, the better. As she scrubbed, the harsh soap stug her battered knuckles from the day before. She grimaced, scrubbing harder in retaliation.

“I’m alright,” she smiled through gritted teeth, tossing a now clean pan aside to be dried and picking up another. “Martha’s likely worse off, bloodied as she was.” She gave a little chuckle. Rose laughed, nodding. 

“I saw her on my way to the scullery. She looks quite uh...under the weather.” Rose smiled, blowing a strand of hair out of her face. Rey lifted her head for a moment, returning her smile, and noticed that Rose’s usually tight and precise bun was messy and frayed today, as if she had been rushed. 

“Is everything alright with you? I mean, are you well?” Rose sighed and looked over at her, hesitating for a moment.

“I didn’t want to worry you, but, well it’s -”

Before Rose could finish speaking, a familiar voice rung out directly behind them, and Rey felt a cold hand on her shoulder. She turned, immediately being met with Phasma’s cold gaze. She’d hardly seen her since she had arrived, and quite frankly she had enjoyed her absence. 

“Miss Rey,” Phasma’s hand clenched around her shoulder slightly, “Please come with me.” Rey’s eyes widened, and she began wondering if she was going to be reprimanded for her actions the previous day, or possibly even terminated. If there was one thing Rey knew, it was that she needed this job. Taking a quick glance at Rose, who had ducked her head down under the guise of minding her own business, Rey turned and nodded, bowing slightly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Rey dropped her dish back into the sink, wiping her soap covered hands on her apron before turning to follow Phasma. She lead her out of the scullery and into a narrow, dimly lit hallway, one Rey was sure she hadn’t ever seen. Once they were far enough from everyone else in the scullery, Phasma stopped, grabbing her by the arm and looking both ways to assure nobody was in the hall with them. Rey clenched a fist, heart fluttering, her nails digging into her palm. 

“Now, I’m not quite sure what this is all about,” Phasma frowned, gesturing to the bruises on Rey’s face, “but quite frankly I could care less in light of the situation. You see, Master Solo himself has requested you.”

Rey’s eyebrows drew together, her nose scrunching. She had to have heard incorrectly. What could he possibly want with her?

“Pardon me ma’am, I’m not sure I understand?” Rey clasped her hands behind her back and unconsciously began chewing on her lip, an old habit that she thought she’d kicked. 

“That’s an order, Rey. You are to report to Mr. Solo’s chambers immediately. For what, I haven’t the faintest, but orders are orders.” Phasma stepped away and promptly turned, heading back down the hallway and out into the scullery without a word. 

Rey stood there for a moment, shocked. The master of the house requested her specifically? Surely his scope of interest was too narrow to include a mere scullery maid, who’s work barely impacted him at all. Yet, here she was, being requested by the very Solo in Solo manor. 

Straightening her skirt and smoothing out her apron gently, she made her way back through the scullery, throwing a cursory glance at Rose, who caught her gaze. Rey paused, stopping in the doorway. They exchanged a short glance, in which Rose’s eyes seemed to beg a question, one that Rey couldn’t answer if she wanted to. And to Rey’s surprise, Rose smiled. It was almost as if she could sense that was what she needed in this moment. Rey smiled back, before taking a deep breath and turning to leave.

Heading into the foyer, Rey once again began to ascend the sprawling staircase that (still) felt too lavish and rich for her touch. Each step was a reminder that she did not belong, that she was different and lesser than. Reaching the top, she headed down the hall she knew lead to the master’s chamber, feeling her stomach start to turn. Door after door, painted a clean, starch white, passed her by. 

Finally, she reached the end of the hallway. She clenched her hand into a fist, raising it to knock on the door. She paused for a moment, hands shaking, before taking a deep breath and sounding off three hard knocks. 

No response. 

She closed her eyes, clenching her fist harder, and knocked again, louder this time. At last, she heard a muffled response from behind the door. 

“Come in, and close the door behind you.”

Rey’s heart pounded, not sure why the mere sound of his voice caused her to feel so flustered.   
Unclenching her fist, she wrapped her hand gently around the gilded knob. It was cold to the touch, in stark contrast to her hands, hot with anxiety. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she turned the knob swiftly and pushed the door open. 

Taking a tentative step inside, her eyes fixed on the ground, she reached behind her and pulled the door shut. Her stomach was twisted in knots- she wondered if it was a side effect of the lightning storm in her brain. 

“Have you forgotten your manners? Raise your head and greet your master.” He spoke in that familiar tone from the other day- quiet, yet steady and forceful. Slowly, she raised her head, and fixed her gaze firmly on the man across the room. He sat stiffly in a gilded, plush chair, opposite his bed, a glass of gin in his hand. She licked her lips- her mouth was dry. 

“Master Solo,” she spoke firmly, retaining a flat affect and curtseying slightly. Appear too anxious, too nervous, and he would mistake her uncertainty for fear- and fear was weakness. He had already seen her vulnerable once before, and she swore to herself it would never happen again. He stared at her for a moment, sipping his gin, his brows furrowed.

“What’s happened to your face? It looks atrocious.”

Rey fought back a grimace, the knots in her stomach tightening. She chose her words carefully. 

“There was a simple misunderstanding in the courtyard yesterday, master. I do apologize for my appearance.” She forced a small smile in an attempt to downplay the matter. 

“I don’t quite understand,” he raised an eyebrow, his lips pressed into a thin line, “how a simple misunderstanding could give you a black eye and a gash like that.” He finished off his gin, flicking his tongue over his upper lip, and gestured to a chair opposite him. “Come, sit.”

Her eyes darted to his lips, then his eyes, then the floor. Being sure to keep her steps even and measured, she did as he asked. She sat with her legs crossed, fanning her skirt out modestly over her legs. 

“So, Rey,” he fixed his eyes on hers, searching. “Who was it that attacked you?" Rey clasped her hands tightly in her lap, forcing her body to remain calm - outwardly, at least. He knew already, of course he did. She might as well tell the truth.

“It was Martha, sir, she’s another-”

“Scullery maid, I know. Don’t be deceived, I rarely concern myself with anyone past the foyer if I can help it, but I’ve had my eye on her as of late- and for good reason.” He tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. “But what would draw her to you? Surely she has nothing to fear from a girl from nowhere, with no family name,” He paused, raising his eyebrows slightly. “And no family, I presume.” his face remained flat, eyes locked on hers. It was only after the words left his mouth that he heard their bitterness, and saw the hurt in her eyes.

“I haven’t the faintest idea, Master,” her voice was soft, and her eyes broke from his. She focused on the stitching of her skirt, clenching her already clasped hands and turning her knuckles white. Ben cleared his throat awkwardly, fingers tapping the arm of his chair absentmindedly. “I did nothing to offend her, nor is there anything she might gain from harassing me. To most people, I am of little concern; when you have no one, as I do, you’re nothing.”

Ben stared at her for a moment, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. This girl believed she was disposable, inadequate, marked by the perceptions of others. He knew the feeling all too well. 

“You may be nothing to them,” he spoke slowly, carefully, “but not to me.” 

She raised her head slightly eyes flickering to meet his in an instant. Her hands loosened their grip on one another, shock replacing tension. The firm expression she was trying so hard to maintain collapsed in an instant, her lips parting and beginning to quiver. 

“I don’t quite understand, sir,” she tried in vain to speak steadily, her skin growing hot in embarrassment when she realized how frail she sounded. 

“I called you here, Rey, because I need your assistance.” He searched her eyes for a reaction, hoping she couldn’t sense the urgency behind his words. Her eyes widened, a mix of confusion and intrigue. 

“With what, Master Solo?” She couldn’t possibly imagine what she could do to help him in any circumstance - after all, her skill set mainly involved street brawls and washing dishes.

“As I said, I’ve kept a close watch on Martha,” he lowered his voice, eyes flitting to the door, as if he could see through it. “I have reason to suspect she’s involved in a conspiracy against me.” Rey furrowed her brows slightly, lips twisting into a frown. 

“A conspiracy? Martha hardly seems the type to craft a plot intricate enough to-”

“Martha is merely a pawn. It’s most certainly orchestrated by someone else- and I know who.” He stood, pacing to the window and clasping his hands behind his back. He looked outside, presumably into the courtyard below. “The less you know of that, however, the better. At least for now.” Rey cleared her throat awkwardly, unsure how to feel. 

“How would you have me assist you then sir?” His back still turned to her, she watched the light from the window illuminate his silhouette.

“I need you to observe Martha. Do a bit of… detective work, one might say.” He turned away from the window, eyes fixed on hers once again. “Learn as much as you can. You will report to me when you have new information to disclose.” Rey tilted her head, thinking in silence for a moment. 

“As you wish, sir. There is the matter of my duties, however. It would be difficult to report to you at will without arousing suspicion from-”

“You needn’t worry about that- as of the end of this meeting, I will send an order for you and Martha to be promoted to linen maids. This way, you can keep a close watch while being near enough to me to report discreetly.” He took a few steps towards her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “You, and you only, will be permitted to make my bed each morning while I am in the dining hall eating breakfast. If you have anything to report, wait for me here so we may discuss it discreetly when I return. Do you understand?” Rey swallowed nervously, nodding slowly.

“I do, though I am concerned about Martha’s aggression- she alluded that she may instigate another fight with me, and I don’t wish to-”

“Rey,” Ben smiled faintly, almost smirking, “I’m no fool. I know with utmost certainty that Martha fared far worse than you in that fight. I look out that window often, and yesterday was no exception.”

She was so stunned by his smile - an expression she was certain he didn’t know how to show - that it took her a moment to process what he was implying. He had seen her fight back; he had seen the ever-present anger she sought to suffocate, the wildfire she became when she lost control. 

“I apologize that you had to witness something so unsightly, sir. I can assure you that I will do my best to serve you as you’ve asked, in as discreet a way as possible,” she stood and curtsied, her chest hot with what she told herself was simple embarrassment. 

“I would expect nothing less.” He strode to the door, opening it swiftly and gesturing towards it. His next words were spoken softly, nearly a whisper. “You are dismissed. Phasma will assist you in the transfer to linen maid this evening.” She nodded, clasping her hands gently in front of her and making her way into the hall silently.

Ben Solo watched her as she walked away, his chest tight, his hand reaching into his pocket and fumbling for a cigarette. After all, a cigarette always calmed his nerves- and as he learned the moment he saw her, Rey seemed to ignite them. It made him uneasy.

Rey felt his eyes on her as she walked away, and felt her stomach tighten again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wheeew! i hoped you liked it! leave a comment and let me know :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. Much love xx


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